JUST TOUCHING BASE ON THIS PERSONAL BLOGOF MINE IN THIS UPDATE
On the surface,
Even though things in the world aren’t as bad as they were in the past two years,
As we hit the midway point of 2022,
Well, let’s just break it down…
We’re still in a pandemic in which the realization that COVID-19 will never go away is pretty much a reality
The war in Ukraine is still raging
The situation regarding climate change is getting worse, meaning that it promises to be a longer and hotter summer with numerous wildfires and massive heat waves resulting in deaths.
The divide between races, cultures, and political ideologies is worse than ever in this country, with the likelihood that it won’t get better growing
The mass shootings and murders are likewise getting more numerous and worse than ever, the worst part being that certain factions of conservatives are of the opinion that in a free society with the right to bear arms (The Second Amendment in this case), mass shootings and killings are inevitable
and…
The fact that I’m going to be 55 years of age in twelve days as of this writing, with my 60th birthday being just five years away, is freaking me out a tiny bit.
I’m certainly feeling my age after my pick-up softball games on Saturdays, me being barely able to bend my right knee among my other aches and pains.
But that’s just a part of getting older, right?
I know that I shouldn’t be too stressed about all the bad things going on right now, particularly since I’ve got so many blessings and reasons to be thankful;
I’ve got food to eat
I’ve got a roof over my head – and being in Los Angeles, which is the homeless capitol if the U.S., that’s really a blessing
I live in a relatively nice neighborhood
I have electricity, running water, and gas
I can walk, talk, and move my external parts
Though I still need to lose some weight, I’m in relatively good health (Thank God for that!)
and most importantly…
I’m still breathing
As for this blog, I have some specific thoughts regarding that,
This blog hasn’t had hardly any reads, as it’s gone two and three days with no one checking it out.
It’s not my intention to whine about that, but,
To be honest, I’m still wondering if I’m wasting my time doing this as in,
“What’s the point of having a blog of no one’s reading it?”
Not that I’m announcing the end of this blog as my goal is to get to ten years, which will happen two years from this July.
At least not yet; we’ll see how things go.
And I DO have things to write about this month, namely…
The fact that my birthday and Juneteenth will be on back-to-back days a week from this Saturday; a post regarding that occasion will appear on this blog next week
The fact that I post photos of natural scenery on my personal Twitter page (http://www.twitter.com/Dhart1467) to relax me as it makes me wish I was at those places
The fact that I have found myself looking at pictures of tiny houses and cabins that cost roughly between $20,000 to $50,000 online and imagining living in one of those dwellings
and,
My opinion/thoughts about this country being more accurately called the Divided States of America rather than the United States of America
So it’s not like I have nothing more to write or offer my humble opinions about.
I DO have to get going on my second book, however;
I’m still not 100,000% sure what it will be about or whether it will be fiction or non-fiction.
Hopefully and prayerfully I’ll be started on the first draft and making progress on such this summer.
That’s about that for now.
Be sure to look for my annual birthday/Juneteenth post on this blog next week!
A van chilling at the beach: A decent image of summer…
Photo courtesy of praxiscenterforaestheticstudies.com
I HAVE SOMETHING TO ADMIT…
I have not started working on my next book at all.
I haven’t even written any outlines whatsoever.
Not word one.
Basically because of life in general and being busy with that;
I haven’t really found the time to sit down for a significant length of such and do an outline and background of the characters and scene, as it requires lots of time at one setting for that.
That doesn’t mean that my mind hasn’t had ideas, however;
Remember when I mentioned how two of my ideas for a second book were,
A guy on the autism spectrum who’s simply a social failure in the neurotypical mainstream world who finds out about a place made for people on the spectrum, goes there, and is not only accepted, but flourishes, and…
A futuristic story about America being embroiled in a Second Civil War based on political, social, and cultural philosophies and views, i.e., liberal, “Black Lives Matter” types vs far right wing conservative supporters of the former President-Whose-Name-I-Do-Not-Mention-On-This-Blog
Well,
When I go to bed at night, to help me go to sleep I create stories and scenarios in my head; essentially telling myself bedtime stories that I imagine.
Lately I’ve had this scenario/outline of a story pop into my gray matter as I try to wind down and sleep…
In a not-that-distant future, the United States, realizing once and for all that the polarization and pronounced animosity between liberals and conservatives is too overwhelming for the country to ever unify, ends and partitions itself into three separate countries, the liberal factions taking the Northeast and West Coast while the South, Midwest, and much of the Rockies go to the conservatives.
In the conservative nation, which I have an idea to call it the Columbian States of America, the clock is pretty much turned back 100 years as far as issues pertaining to race, gender, class, and socioeconomic status as the saying “He who is a conservative and has the gold, rules” rules the day with its one party status; meaning abortion, unions, and equal rights for anyone who isn’t white, wealthy and male are more or less non-existent as even the moderate conservatives are lacking of rights.
Meanwhile, the liberal countries – I’m calling the West Coast nation the Republic of Pacifica while I’m not sure what to call the northeast country yet – are likewise a one-party nation but are not free of problems and issues; crime, drug abuse, extremely high taxes and prices to things like gas and housing, homelessness, and general lack of funding and red tape blocking anything significant from getting accomplished.
Those scenarios, at least for now, set up the story, which is this:
A young African-American male in his 20s from the conservative nation, who is on the spectrum, is in a really terrible state;
He’s getting treated very badly by too many people because of the color of his skin as segregation, harassment by law enforcement and other authorities, denial of services like being refused service in stores due to color, ethnicity and/or gender, legalization and encouragement of people of color being called racial epithets, including blacks being called the “N” word, and (not literal, but virtual in the form of various programs reminiscent of the sharecropping era) slavery has been re-established in many parts of that new right wing country.
Not only that, he’s not being treated too well by his fellow Blacks either due to his being on the spectrum and behaving in a way that is seen by too many as strange, resulting in him being bullied, taken advantage of, and being called a “Goofy Mark” for the bulk of his life.
In fact, he doesn’t have any real friends, or anyone who really cares about him, at all.
His family is dead (I’m not yet sure how), and he’s at the very end of his rope to the point where he tries suicide after trying to get a job and not only being called the “N” word as he gets turned down, he gets chased by bigoted thugs who want to hurt him if not outright kill him.
After he escapes the bigots, that’s the last straw for him as he finds a bridge to jump off of when he hears someone get his attention, asking for help.
A prominent tool of my writing trade. Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com
It’s a young, olive-skinned, dark-haired, mixed ethnic-type lady who tells him of a place where he can go and feel safe and flourish; not in the Republic of Pacifica or the northeast country, but somewhere far north in what’s known as Canada.
They set off, walking, taking buses and trains, and hiding in various places reminiscent of the Underground Railroad of the pre-Civil War 1800s, seeing all kinds of spectacular scenery while not only becoming friends, but growing closer on the way to becoming more than friends, especially after the young lady sees him doing some very nice things like feeding some stray animals.
As they get closer to their destination, the guy, while sleeping in their shared tent, wakes up and sees the lady praying for food (they are running out) and suddenly beginning to shine in a very bright light while an abundance of food appears.
The young lady, now decked in a bright white robe, turns out to be an angel who was sent to look after him on their journey as she tells him,
“Now you know what I am.”
When they reach their destination, a town where there is incredibly no crime, racism, or any of the ills of society whatsoever where it turns out that the town is run by angels like the young lady.
“No, this is not Heaven,” the young lady tells him when he asks, “But it’s pretty close as it’s just a tiny hint of what Heaven is like.”
The biggest twist in this story idea is the fact that the young man and the angel fall completely in love, even going on what turns out to be a wonderful date that solidifies in concrete how they feel for each other, but of course the angel is not allowed to be with him and she’s very upset about that, telling her fellow angels “I love him!” as she sheds tears.
Finally, she’s given a choice;
She can be with the young man, but she has to give up being an angel and become human
She can remain an angel, but she has to return to Heaven and can never see the guy again – at least until he dies, and even then they can never be a couple
When she tells the young man of her options, he tells her,
“I’ll make up your mind for you; I can’t let you give up being what you are just to be with me. I’m not important enough or worthy enough for that.”
So they split up amongst tears, a big hug, and her kissing him on his cheek.
But a few days later, he hears a knock on his door.
It’s the angel, who tells him with a smile, “It’s not your decision!” as she not only kisses and hugs him in complete happiness, she produces a ring and asks him to marry her, saying that his humility in telling her to not be with him because he didn’t feel that he was worthy tipped the scales.
Which of course he accepts, her telling him that she can remain an angel after she was so sad after returning to Heaven, God telling her, “I want you to be happy,” in letting her be with him, also informing her that she is still needed as an angel.
At the wedding reception, someone brings news of a devastating Second Civil War that destroys all three countries in the former U.S., the young man, although sad at that development, thanking God for blessing him to be where he is and for his now-wife.
And of course they both live, proverbially speaking, “Happily Ever After”.
You know what?
I think I have just written a first draft – a VERY ROUGH first draft – of my story outline!
But in stating the obvious, that’s all that I have for now as this is still a very, VERY rough idea whose details can well change.
It’s all a matter of finding the time to sit down and really work on this outline, story background, and the development of the characters.
I’m convinced this idea comes from the fact that since I’ve never been in any kind of romantic relationship in real life, I’ll create one in book form as the young man is kind of (but not completely) based on me.
I’m very much interested in finding out what everyone thinks of this idea for my next book.
Please let me know in the comments…
What the first draft of my for book, “WALKING ON EGGSHELLS”, looked like (sort of). Photo courtesy of hayimoshkyblog.com
It really is true that it’s hard to believe that on this day in 2014,
After spending six years writing stuff on sites that paid royalties – and even getting a couple of small paychecks along the way,
I made the decision to go out on my own, without anyone looking over my shoulder and telling my things that irritated me to hear, and begin my own blog to write posts on whatever topic that captures my fancy…
This one.
After six months, after spending six and a half years writing about sports on blogs like Bleacher Report and the FanSided Network, particularly UCLA sports as well as the various teams and athletic activities in the Los Angeles area, I began another blog that focused on such that’s now called SoCal Sports Chronicles (here’s the link: http://www.socalsportschronicles.wordpress.com),
Which led me to be able to change my focus on this blog to, with rare exceptions, non-sports subjects and topics like being a Christian and my experiences with that, being on the autism spectrum, racial issues, political issues, and my take on things like the Black Lives Matter protests, the subsequent riots in places like my former hometown of Santa Monica, and the COVID-19 pandemic and me doing my part in beating this over year-long crisis by getting fully vaccinated.
Along with expressing random thoughts and feelings, like I did when I had a journal which I periodically wrote in from 1994-2003.
And giving updates and progress during the process of writing my book, WALKING ON EGGSHELLS: Living With Asperger’s Syndrome in a Non-Asperger’s World, which I self-published two years ago;
It’s hard to believe it’s been that long already (Darn, another cliche!)
With a handful of exceptions, the number of reads that I’ve gotten in the vast majority of months have been quite low; there have been quite a few days where no one has read any of my posts.
Which has induced some minor pangs of discouragement; I won’t lie.
Indeed, I have had a thought or two of retiring this blog and focusing strictly on SoCal Sports Chronicles, which has done quite a bit better in the number of reads.
None of those thoughts were serious, however, as it remained in my mind the reason why I continue to post stuff on this blog…
I do it for me.
And it continues to be a good place to express my thoughts, feelings and opinions outside of sports about whatever I want to express my thoughts, feelings and opinions outside of sports about.
Which is why, though this blog certainly won’t be active forever and the day will come, sooner or later, where I’ll end it,
Hartland Chronicles will continue with new posts appearing on the average of once a week.
Or at least I’ll do my best to have that.
In the meantime, while not intending to toot my own horn in the slightest,
Seven years of writing in a blog is a decent accomplishment, I must say.
If nothing else, I think it shows that I have something of an ability to stick to things.
Usually I’ll end this by saying here’s to another seven years of this personal blog of mine, but I’m not going to do that.
To be honest, I don’t know if this blog will still be around in 2028, and I don’t feel like speculating on that possibility right now.
But Hartland Chronicles will still be around for now; I think that’s the important thing.
And I’m glad that I have this blog to write and post stuff on.
An illustration of what I’ve been doing for the past thirteen years. Photo by Ketut Subiyanto on Pexels.com
Being that it’s December, I thought I’d share some of what I wrote during that month in the journal that I kept from 1993-2003
Saturday, December 3, 1995, 8:12 p.m. (exactly 25 years ago tomorrow!)
December at last! Another weekend coming to an end. Sitting on my bed right now.
Weekend was kinda busy; played my first softball game in six months yesterday. Did better with the glove than the bat, something that I can rarely say. I mean it; in eight at-bats yesterday, I only hit the ball good three times. It was likely due to the long layoff, but I’m also finding myself thinking that perhaps I’m not the top-notch hitter I once was. I don’t know, I’m sure as hell don’t have the kind of body that can play 70 games a year anymore, as I did in college. My legs, especially my thighs, are still stiff as hell; it’s hard for me to get up and sit down, and it’s real hard to bend down and pick up stuff. Bottom line is, even though 28 years is not considered old, I kinda feel like a 20-year major league veteran who’s about to retire. Even though I’m still considered young, I feel old, like I’ve been there a long time. I hope I’m making sense.
For the past two weeks or so I’ve been coughing all over the place. I don’t think I really have a cold per se, because my nose gets stuffed when I have a real cold. I think it’s my body telling me to slow down more than anything else. Right now I have this slight headache around my forehead area, most likely the same thing here, my body telling me “Hey Derek, slow down and get some rest.”
Saturday, December 19, 1998, 10:39 p.m.
I did something today that I haven’t done in three months – I played ball. Did pretty well, too, got two doubles and a triple. I totally wasn’t sure how I’d do with the bat today – I wasn’t expecting to set the world on fire, considering that I hadn’t swung a bat in two months. The first hit I got felt real good – a line shot over the shortstop’s head & up the alley. In fact, it felt good to play again after all this time.
…things are starting to move rapidly in us moving to Culver City. Mom wants us to be (there) as of December 29th. I’m starting to realize that there are places in Santa Monica that I’ll likely never see again, like Bob’s Market and SMC. In other words, I’m starting to say good bye to Santa Monica.
It’s hard to believe I’ve lived in this town for 22 years, 18 in one house alone. I was thinking today about how when I first moved to this house, I was in 7th grade and not yet 13 years old. I’ve been a teenager and went through my college years and my twenties all in this house. It’s weird to be leaving a town and a house that you’ve spent so much long in, essentially going from your childhood to thirty-something.
At the same time, I’m ready for a change. I sort of feel sometimes like an athlete who’s stayed in his sport too long; put it this way, moving to Culver City for me will mean starting over. New people. A chance for a fresh start, which is kind of what I need.
The day after (UCLA) beat SC Mom took me to see the new place. The area is real nice; the condos all look like a bunch of rustic mountain cabins with a lake in the middle and a stream running through. Mom liked the grounds and the fact that she has two parking spaces. The bedroom that I’m gonna have is a little small, but other than that, the place is nice. There’s a little patio and a fireplace, plus a little wet bar and our own washer/dryer. Mom’s excited by the whole thing – this is a big step for her. I haven’t even started packing yet; I haven’t had time to do so until now because of CSUN. I’ll probably start boxing my books tomorrow after I do my laundry.
NOTE: I plan to have another excerpt from my journal soon…
An illustration of what I did for a ten year period in the 90s and early 2000s…
First In A Series
For a full ten-year period, from the last day of 1993 to the last day of 2003,
I kept a personal journal.
I expressed pretty much all of my thoughts, fears, anxieties, and depressions as well as wrote about everything that happened to me, good and bad, during that time, spanning from my mid-20s to my mid-30s.
Looking back, I think writing a journal served as a sort of training for the writing career, for all intents and purposes, that I’m involved in now.
Much, if not most, of what was written in my journal didn’t make my book, WALKING ON EGGSHELLS: Living With Asperger’s Syndrome in a Non-Asperger’s World.
Which is why I decided to post excerpts from my entries.
Also, to be honest, in the six-plus years of writing in this blog and the twelve years of (non-sports) writing online,
I’m running out of things to write about.
So here’s my first excerpt, from my early days of this journal.
I hope you find it at least a little interesting…
Tuesday, February 22, 1994, 12:04 p.m.
Fuck, it’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve written in here…
I’m writing here in a hallway at SMC (Santa Monica College), waiting for a friend and writing this thing. It’s a beautiful day outside. A lot, or at least quite a bit, has happened since I’ve written to you last. It would be pretty much impossible for me to tell you everything, but I’ll do my best to tell you as much as I can remember. It’s just a matter now of figuring out where to start…
OK, first things first. I still have no job, and I’m feeling a little bit of pressure to do so. It’s hard enough to find any job at this day and age, but when you’re like me and you’re trying to find something that you want to do that will fit your schedule (In my case, mornings part time, letting out no later than 2 pm), it’s doubly tough. Mom wants me to flip burgers or some menial shit like that. Let me tell you something, I’d almost rather starve on the street than to take a job where you’re practically owned by your boss, where you’re treated like a lesser being, and where you work when THEY want, and they change your schedule at whim. In short, being an asshole. Those kinds of jobs (and I’m describing pretty much anything in retail, food or whatever) I will never do.
I’ll be right back.
Thursday, May 5, 1994, 12:38 p.m.
Well, well, I guess I lied when I said I’ll be right back. Strange to realize that it’s been 2 & 1/2, almost 3 months since I’ve last written in here. I suppose quite a bit has happened since then…
Right now I’m sitting in the living room on the couch. My brother…(I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned him in here of not) is in the kitchen. He’s 12 and in middle school, but…
You knows what? Here I am, a young Black man that’s supposed to be a strong role model for kids like him, and I feel that I’ve failed at this in certain areas…For instance, I’ll be 27 years old in a little over a month (this is the first time that I’m not looking forward to my birthday), I’ve been a college graduate for almost 2 & 1/2 years, and STILL I have no steady job, I’m living at home, and I have no car, no license, no nothing. Sure, I’m a pretty good person in that I don’t break the law, smoke, drink, do illegal drugs, or attack women. Bit I don’t think that my brother looks at me positively as a strong role model, and that’s pretty much my fault.
I’ll be back in a few hours…There’s still a couple of more things that I want to write about. I’m going to go work out and maybe get some food,
Friday, May 6, 1994, 9:33 a.m.
It’s me again. Sorry it took awhile to come back, but I really did want to write about a couple of more things here…
After 8 months without a steady income, I must say that I am very disappointed in my luck finding a job. Hell, I’ve been turned down for jobs that I DIDN’T want, like telemarketing for the Times.
The other day the people at UCLA’s elementary school called me to find out if I was still interested in an aide’s job, which of course I was, then a few hours later they tell me they already hired somebody, basically fucking me. I know I need a job, a steady income, and I know that something must be done, but how can I make any money if no one will give me a chance? This goes to show that like I said earlier in this journal, the only person I can 100% count on, at least right now, is myself.
Of course it needs to be understood that these are the sentiments of someone from over 25 years ago, and does NOT reflect my sentiments today as much has obviously happened since then.
These series of excerpts will appear on this blog periodically, with no specific pattern on when they will appear, just as was the case with this journal.
I love scenic shots like this, the sun shining through trees; it reminds me of God’s presence somehow. Photo courtesy of twitter.com
In case anyone is thinking this – and I’m sure a lot of people are…
NO, I AM NOT ENDING THIS BLOG.
But I am going to enact one particular change in how I write and post on Hartland Chronicles.com.
Let me explain…
If you count the articles that I posted on sites like Triond and Hubpages,
I have been writing about different topics and subjects, personal and otherwise, for twelve years now.
As I have recently stated on this blog, I have had Hartland Chronicles for six years.
Simply put, I have been feeling a little burnt out as far as writing and posting on this blog on a consistently weekly basis.
There have been plenty of times in the past couple of years where I have posted photos of nature during the various seasons for the simple reason of not being able to think about anything to write about.
I remember during the 1990s and early 2000s, before I began my online writing career and while I was struggling with working in conventional jobs (Read: working for someone else),
I kept a journal in which I wrote about what was happening in my life and expressed my thoughts, feelings and opinions regarding whatever was on my mind.
I wrote in that journal for ten years, but here’s the significant difference between how I approached that journal and how I approached writing on this blog:
I kept a set schedule for Hartland Chronicles, writing on Tuesdays
For my journal, I did NOT have any kind of schedule, as I wrote in it whenever the urge came; sometimes I would go months between entries.
Now while I do not see myself going months between posts here,
I’ve decided to not stick to such a strict schedule.
I have also decided to not necessarily stick to posting once a week on a strict basis.
In other words, if I go a week or two without posting anything,
I’ve decided to not worry about it.
Or lose any sleep over it.
Don’t get me wrong – when the election season heats up this fall between Joe Biden and our dear President-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,
I’ll have plenty of thoughts, opinions, and expressions about that campaign that I’ll write about on this blog in what will be more than one post.
However…
Outside of that, if I can’t think about anything to post about,
I won’t force myself to post anything on here.
I don’t think I will go more than two weeks between articles, though; I’m not 100% sure about that.
For now, I’ll see how it goes with this new approach.
Meanwhile…
For all of those followers of this blog, thanks for your support.
And keep following this blog;
It may not have as many entries, but as is the common saying,
The two main tools of my trade for the past decade-plus…
IT HAS BEEN SIX YEARS AGO EXACTLY TO THE DAY.
When after writing and posting articles on blogs like Triond and Hubpages, getting a few dollars in royalties but eventually getting to the point where I felt like Big Brother was watching me as far as how I wrote things,
I decided to start my own blog, where I could say what I wanted to say however I wanted to say it without anyone giving me any kind of score or stating that I needed to make changes to my pieces in order to get them posted.
281 articles,
Nearly 13,000 views,
67 followers,
237,244 words – and counting,
And exactly 2,192 days later, as I type this on my new laptop that I bought for myself as a birthday present,
Here we are.
While I admit that this blog hasn’t exactly set the world on fire as far as a huge number of reads; there have only been a few months where my average number of reads per day has been in double digits, and I have only reached 1,000 reads in a month once,
I honestly didn’t start this blog to get that kind of popularity as while getting one and two thousand reads a month would be nice,
I began this blog for the same reason that I began writing online back in 2008 (can you believe it’s been twelve years?!),
And for the same reason why I wrote and published my book, WALKING ON EGGSHELLS: Living With Asperger’s Syndrome in a Non-Asperger’s World, last year…
I did it for me.
A good image signifying my acceptance of Jesus into my life. Image courtesy of www1.cbn.com
When I think about what has happened in my life in the six years of writing this blog, while quite a bit has been going on it hasn’t been world-shattering;
I haven’t traveled the world, gotten married to the perfect goddess-like female, or won huge amounts of millions in the lottery or in Las Vegas.
But I reckon that I have improved my health, as due to the stroke scare I had in October of 2014 due to my extremely high blood pressure and weight, I gave up some foods, eventually making my not eating red meat official, and began a fitness routine that I can’t imagine not doing today, as I would feel that I wasted a day or did something wrong without doing some kind of running, abdominal crunches, or lifting weights.
The sports blog that I’ve had for the past five and a half years, SoCal Sports Chronicles.com ( http://www.socalsportschronicles.wordpress.com ), which has essentially been my business, has been going pretty okay; please feel free to click on the above link and check it out!
I suppose WALKING ON EGGSHELLS, even though it was as far from a best seller as a book can possibly get – not that I expected it to have any kind of big sales as I wrote it for me and to tell my story – was a pretty good accomplishment.
And although I’m not even close to where I need to be as a Christian as far as sinning, which everyone does, having Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior has been nice and fulfilling, and has given me a bit more peace and calm than I had.
In case you were wondering…
NO, I’m not planning on ending this blog at this time – I fully intend to continue HARTLAND CHRONICLES for the foreseeable future.
An official symbol of the autism/Asperger’s community that I was born into…
But I’m saying that knowing that I can’t write on this blog forever,
That there will be one day – “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but some day…” to quote Humphrey Bogart in the 1942 all-time classic film Casablanca,
Where I’ll feel that this blog, and my time writing on it, will simply be over.
I don’t know when that will be, but I promise that you’ll be the first to know.
In the meantime,
With the world being in such terrible chaos right now, what with…
A global pandemic which has kept people confined to their homes, only going out with masks on, for the past four months (and counting) and has taken well over 100,000 souls so far (again, and counting), with no apparent end in sight as the experts say that another bad wave of infections and deaths are coming,
Millions in a righteous uproar over African-Americans being hunted down and killed by law enforcement, and the multitude of bigots retaliating to the Black Lives Matter protests by engaging in various racist backlashes,
A U.S. President and, subsequently, a leader of the free world continuing to show his true colors in only caring for people like himself – folks who are white, conservative, Christian, male, straight, wealthy, or a combination of those six attributes while continuing to show evil contempt for all those who are none of those descriptions, and,
A country which is so acrimoniously divided among political, ideological, racial, and every other kind of lines imaginable that I’m beginning to think that an outbreak of a second Civil War, resulting in a separation of these United States into three or four different countries, may not be too far fetched,
It’s nice to have this blog as an outlet for my feelings and opinions about life and what is going on in life, mine and in general.
I have no idea whether or not I’ll continue HARTLAND CHRONICLES for another six years, but…
For now, I’ll celebrate this blog’s anniversary.
For it has been, and continues to be, a nice thing to have.
Another illustration of what has largely defined my life for the past twelve years, six on this blog…
In early January I wrote and posted a piece on this blog which featured a few ideas for my next book, as it was/is never my intention to have WALKING ON EGGSHELLS: Having Asperger’s Syndrome in a Non-Asperger’s World be the only book that I write.
After all, I’m no J.D. Salinger, whose classic Catcher In The Rye was his only work.
I have recently given what my next book ought to be about a bit of thought, and I think I’ve narrowed it down to two subjects, or topics, or stories – whatever you want to call them.
The big thing here is that they are both fictional.
Here are the two ideas…
1. L. Frank Baum created Oz.
James M. Barrie created Neverland.
C.S. Lewis created Narnia.
J.K. Rowling created the Wizarding World.
And Suzanne Collins created Panem.
Not that I’m liking myself to any of those great authors in any way, shape or form, but…
An idea came to my head to create a land for people on the autism spectrum, a place where people with Asperger’s and other levels of autism can go and live because the neurotypical, or (so-called) normal world, has grown such intolerant of them in a two-hundred and second class way, complete with the segregation, discrimination, and bigotry that goes along with that.
Of course there would not be any,
Witches, green-tinted or otherwise
Talking scarecrows, lions, or tin men
Flying Monkeys, flying kids, or anything else that flies outside of birds
Fairies or fairy dust
Pirates with hooks instead of hands or anything else
My story would be about a guy who, after spending his whole life since childhood being mainstreamed among neurotypicals and experiencing nothing but failure, frustration, disappointment – social, professional and otherwise – and subsequently being depressed about such, finds out about and gets invited to this place, a newly set-up country, actually, where people who are on the spectrum, particularly high-functioning (though those who are severe would likewise be there) would be welcome and would be living thriving and surviving.
Which, after some trepidation among living with those on the spectrum like him because he has always felt uncomfortable being around them on a consistent basis due to the fact that he hasn’t interacted with them since he was a little kid,
He finds social and professional success, even to the point to where he finds romance and begins a relationship.
That’s all of the synopsis that I have at the moment; it will undoubtedly grow and change as time goes on.
And of course, before I write word one of chapter one, I need to create this world and all the details and nuances that go along with that.
The way things have been going, in a couple of generations the United States may well cease to look like this. Image courtesy of 123rf.com
2. This idea has been gestating in my head for the past couple of years or so.
With all the vicious ideological animosity between liberals in blue states and conservatives in red states particularly stemming from the election of President He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in everything from the economy to social issues to this current conflict between those who see these lockdowns, social distancing, and wearing masks when out and about due to the coronavirus as doing the right thing to save lives,
And those who have been staging protests in different places demanding that their local and state governments lift the lockouts and closures and reopen all the businesses because they are sick of being told what to do and don’t really believe that this COVID-19 is that big a deal,
Not to mention the continuation of young black males being hunted down strictly because of the color of their skin – may Amaud Arbery Rest In Peace,
And with liberals and progressives seeing the conservative You-Know-Who worshipers, I mean supporters, as the devil’s children while the red state right wingers see the left wingers as wimpy, anti-Christian tree-huggers and lovers of everybody who they see as needing to be 22nd class and “in their place”, i.e., people of color, LGBTQs, non-Christians, those who are homeless or otherwise less fortunate,
All of this reminded me of 1947, when India was granted its independence from Britain, the Hindus and Muslims’ hate of each other was so pronounced in the form of riots and numerous murders, that the leaders saw no other option than for the two groups to separate and form their own countries, with the Muslims establishing Pakistan.
And it also has gestated an idea for me to create a scenario set roughly fifty to seventy years from now, where the United States is dissolved and divided into three separate countries based on political and social ideologies, with the West Coast, including Canada’s British Columbia, and Nevada forming one liberal country, the Northeast (from Maine and much of eastern Canada to Washington, D.C.) forming another liberal, or “blue” country, and the rest of the nation, particularly the South and most of the Midwest, forming a conservative, or “red” country.
This scenario would be the base from where my story would form, which would feature one of these story lines,
Some spark, perhaps some conservative Ku Klux Klan-types would assassinate some prominent person in the “blue” countries and spark an ultimate all-out war for control of North America
A handful of young people from both sides finding themselves the only ones around after such all-out war, wandering around the country and finding a way to get along and realize that it’s all about the human race, not what they believe in or whether they see themselves being better than someone who’s not like them.
These are strictly ideas as of this moment and, like the first idea, the scenarios and possible story lines and plots will likely change.
Plus I have to spend quite a bit of time creating and detailing this world before I write the first syllable in the first chapter of the first draft.
Whichever book I write, it would probably take roughly five years for me to finish and self-publish.
If I write both books, it would take me at least a full decade for me to finish them both.
Now, for the question that I want to ask everyone who may be reading this:
Although I’m sort of leaning toward going with my first idea, I’d like to know which book would you like to have me write.
Which book would you like to read first?
I’ll take any suggestions into consideration; feel free to express your opinion in the comments below.
THIS IS PART OF MY FIRST IDEA: The separate country for those on the autism spectrum that I’d create for my new book would partially look like this. Nice, huh? Photo courtesy of 123rf.com
You didn’t think that WALKING ON EGGSHELLS: Living With Asperger’s Syndrome In A Non-Asperger’s World would be the only book that I would write, did you?
(Hard to believe it was a year ago that I made such a big accomplishment in publishing that book, by the way!)
Neither did I, as I recently realized that I didn’t want to live the rest if my life and never write another book.
After all, I’m not J.D. Salinger, whose Catcher In The Rye was the only book he ever wrote.
I’m not even in the same universe with Salinger; it would be arrogant of me to think that I can write only one book and have that be my one legacy.
Which is why I have been thinking of some ideas for new books to author, such as…
* A fictional tale based on how this country is SO polarized racially, politically, and culturally that it all results in a partition of America, a devastating second Civil War, and the aftermath of that
I don’t have to tell anybody how such is the case, where folks who worship – I mean support – President You-Know-Who and other conservatives have been seeing those who don’t, as well as anyone else not white, conservative, male, straight, and wealthy as lesser beings who need to stay “in their place” for a while,
And conversely, those who have been seeing those President-Who-Not-Be-Named lovers as children of the devil incarnate,
Has been a practically indelible part of the American landscape since before the orange-haired Dark Lord was elected.
Having considered where it may all eventually lead, and thinking about how India, upon winning independence from Britain in 1947 because of pronounced animosity between the Hindus and the Muslims in that part of the world, partitioned with the Muslims venturing northwest and creating Pakistan with both countries having nuclear missiles being pointed at each other ever since along with engaging in numerous wars,
I thought it may be a decent idea to write something in which the U.S., sometime in the future, goes through the same thing because of all the (seemingly) significant hatred between the opposing races, cultures and ideologies, and a devastating second civil war that wipes everything and nearly everyone out eventually emerging because of some incident that sparks it all.
I would focus on a person or a handful of people from those polarizing groups; racial, cultural, political, etc., who survive this American Armageddon.
I emphasize that these are all just ideas, as I would have to do a significantly sized outline which creates this world, as in,
Creating characters,
Creating a story line,
Creating situations, and basically,
Creating this particular world/universe in general
As this other idea that I have for a fictional story…
* An African-American on the autism spectrum who is high-functioning (like me) spending his life getting misunderstood, mistreated and bullied as an “Oreo” and a “Goofy Mark” among too many of his fellow Blacks in his neighborhood and town, finds a racially and culturally diverse community of people like him who are on the spectrum/have Asperger’s Syndrome, and after his bullies try to attack him and his new community are rebuffed and defeated, leaving the aspie to live happily ever after
Or this non-fictional idea…
* A sequel to WALKING ON EGGSHELLS focusing on my life playing and (particularly) coaching youth sports, trying to be successful in that and ultimately giving it up because of too many issues stemming from my being on the spectrum, as I pretty much left that out of the first book
As I have stated, right now these are strictly ideas.
Of course I would not take nearly as long to write these books as I did in writing WALKING ON EGGSHELLS; whatever the subject of my second book, it would be no longer than 250-300 pages as opposed to the roughly 400 pages of my first book.
And I would not take six or seven years to write book number two, either, as my goal would be to have it finished in a year.
If you are reading this, I was wondering which of these three ideas would you like to see in a second book of mine?
Don’t be shy in your opinions, as I want to hear your suggestions.
Every so often, I get these flashbacks of various traumatic events that happened in my life, whether it be,
Getting bullied in school and elsewhere
Getting shunned in school and elsewhere
Getting rejected by girls and women for relationships (one in particular who I was in love with for a long time)
Getting rejected for jobs
Being socially rejected by my peers
Being let go from jobs and other job-related trauma
People treating me like an inferior human being in my mind throughout my life
Incidents instigated by me, whether it be vocal or physical; generally me being a jerk
Incidents stemming from my lack of emotional/social control due to my being on the autism spectrum
Various people showing their dislike for me in certain ways
Without getting into specifics of such traumatic events – my book, WALKING ON EGGSHELLS: Having Asperger’s Syndrome in a Non-Asperger’s World, which is available on…
The flashbacks I periodically get, where such traumatic events are remembered by me as if they were yesterday, even though they may have happened forty some-odd years ago, put me in a tizzy, and I find myself screaming “NO!!” to myself to get those thoughts out.
In a way, it’s kind of like the devil is invading my mind.
Those post traumatic flashbacks have often caused a sense of depression in me, where I don’t feel like doing anything.
But such flashbacks haven’t been the only source of that.
For several decades, dating back to my preteens as I first remember experiencing this at age eleven (a year where I was viciously bullied in my sixth grade class), roughly twice a year or so there would be a period where I would just emotionally crash.
I would lay in bed, getting up only to eat and go to the bathroom, and not feel like doing anything.
Riverside, CA, where thanks to my grandparents I spent a happy early childhood. Photo courtesy of britannica.com
In layman’s terms, I believe that’s called being burnt out.
This condition would also come when I feel that the world is going much too fast; It would be 9:00 in the morning, and a minute later it would be 9:00 at night.
In order for things to slow down, I’d find myself, essentially speaking, stopping my life.
These feelings would also manifest themselves whenever I feel that I’m doing too much.
Or whenever I’d write and post things from this blog and my sports blog onto my Facebook page, and find that no one has read them; that rejection, which (I can’t help feeling like this) often tells me that no one cares enough to give me and what I’m doing the time of day, would cause a bit of trauma that would go into the post-trauma bank.
In other words, I’m fairly sure that I’m suffering from at least a mild form of,
Depression
And have suffered from such for the bulk of my life as I firmly believe (BIG STATEMENT TIME),
The only time in my 52-plus years on this planet where I’ve experienced any true happiness (with maybe an exception or two) was when I was a single digit age kid living with my grandparents in the country outside of Riverside, CA.
Outside of that, I have suffered from various levels of depression largely stemming from post-traumatic stress, sometimes to the point where thoughts of the world being better off without me would enter my mind.
Don’t worry folks, suicide is not imminent with me, and I fully know that I’ve been blessed in many ways as merely having a roof over my head and food to eat is a cause for gratitude.
And being a Christian, having Jesus as my personal savior, has helped with these traumatic and depressive moods.
But they haven’t gone away.
And I don’t know if they ever really will.
In fact, I’m pretty sure that if no one reads this after it’s posted on my Facebook and Twitter pages, I’ll feel a sense of “We’re not interested in you or your writings! You’re wasting your time, so take a hint, dork!” type of rejection.
Which will cause a bit of more trauma; who likes rejection, especially from people whom you’ve known for up to forty-odd years.
And your whole life when you add blood relatives to the mix?
I know that there will be some who, after reading this, will encourage me to seek help.
But though their heart is in the right place, that’s something that I honestly don’t want to hear, because I’ll be thinking,
“You know me – why don’t YOU help me?!”
I’m just being honest here.
All right, I think I’ve rambled on enough about this.
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